The Handkerchief of Guilt
by Tracy Diane Miller
Summary: A night of unexpected passion plunges Ginger into feelings of guilt. "Patriots" inspired this very short missing scene Homefront story.


**The Handkerchief of Guilt  
**  
Summary: A night of unexpected passion plunges Ginger into feelings  
of guilt. "Patriots" inspired this very short missing scene  
Homefront story.

Disclaimer: Homefront characters belong to their creators. No  
copyright infringement intended. No profit is being made.

I dedicate this story to Sharon whose incredible HF reviews continue  
to accentuate the positive about this very special show.

Author: Tracy Diane Miller  
E-mail address: Handkerchief of Guilt

It was very early in the morning when the sun awoke from its  
nocturnal slumber, stretched high into the sun, and cast a quiet  
light on River Run.

In the attic of the Metcalf house, she had been awake for a few  
minutes. She held the sheet tightly up to her chest to cover her  
nakedness, almost as if she were willing the cloth to miraculously  
cover her badge of shame.

She watched him sleep. His chest moved slightly with each breath,  
the affect of its involuntary rhythm hauntingly hypnotic to her. An  
errant wisp of his dark locks fell clumsily against his forehead. He  
looked so handsome, so peaceful. Yet, there was something silent but  
so full of meaning etched upon his face, something that she couldn't  
deny: a smile. What unspoken truths did that smile hold? She  
wondered. In his state of inertia had he journeyed into the realm of  
a happy dream, a dream of blissful contentment? Did all men sport a  
smile after…like a victor savoring the glow of his accomplishment?

She decided that she hated him. Then, the absurdity and  
irrationality of the emotion left her just as quickly as it had  
come. She couldn't hate him, not him. He had taken nothing from  
her, nothing that she hadn't knowingly and so readily given. She had  
dropped her "handkerchief"; he had willingly, yet so tenderly, picked  
it up.

How many times had Mother warned her? A man can not pick up a  
woman's handkerchief until she drops it. Mother's words were a  
powerful sermon, an almost daily diet that resonated in Ginger's ears  
from the moment that she reached adolescence. Mrs. Szabo was  
determined to safeguard her only daughter's virtue. To supplement  
her lectures, Mrs. Szabo told Ginger all of the horror stories of  
young women who had compromised themselves before marriage. The  
unforgiving rumormongers in River Run kept their own tally of the  
trollops. Most of these fallen women had fled River Run before the  
consequences of their indiscretions caught up with them in a visible  
way, lingering shadows of embarrassment and ridicule remaining their  
constant companions. Often, their senior family members became  
enablers of the lie: for the women who did courageously return to  
Ohio months later, the mysterious baby, the newest addition to the  
family, was explained to the community as a "cousin". But everyone  
in River Run knew the truth. And everyone talked about it.

Up until now, Ginger had been very careful and had religiously heeded  
her mother's advice.

Once, when she and Charlie were engaged, they were sitting on her  
front porch swing. Charlie had kissed her. In that moment, with the  
sound of a sorority of crickets filtering the still air seemingly in  
a serenade to the young couple's love, she found herself thinking  
thoughts that she shouldn't have. Then, Charlie gazed into her eyes;  
and she knew. Ginger knew that he was thinking the very same  
thoughts and an unspoken conspiracy was forged between them. Her  
parents weren't home. It would have been very easy to surrender to  
their mutual carnal desires. But in the end, Ginger clung to her  
convictions and she sent Charlie home.

Why had the potent combination of beer and vulnerability robbed her  
of her sensibility and allowed her to discard her morality last night?

Jeff stirred slightly. Dear God, please don't let him wake up!  
Ginger desperately prayed. If he woke up, if he looked at her right  
now, Ginger knew that she would just curl up into a ball and die  
right there on the spot. She needed to get out of there before that  
happened.

Where were her clothes? The answer to her rhetorical inquiry  
presented itself in the heap of clothing strewn haphazardly on the  
floor. She stealthily crept from his bed, collected her belongings,  
and quickly dressed.

As Ginger made her way down the stairs, the steps creaked, the noise  
almost incriminating her to the other occupants of the house. Her  
stomach churned violently. Dear God, please don't let Linda and Mrs.  
Metcalf wake up! If she ran into them now, she would just kill  
herself! As it was, how could she ever face them again? Surely, they  
would know just by looking at her. How could she face Jeff again?

Mercifully, Ginger was able to leave the Metcalf house undetected.  
As she walked down the street, her mind burdened by feelings of  
guilt, she saw a curious sight, a sign from God, perhaps—for there,  
on the ground, lay a women's handkerchief. Some stranger had dropped  
it.

The End.


End file.
